


The Diary of a "Researching" Eco-Terrorist

by SwimyGhost



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Harley Quinn, Bisexual Poison Ivy, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Characters will be added as they appear - Freeform, Diary/Journal, F/F, F/M, Gotham City - Freeform, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, In Airquotes, Poison Ivy is annoyed, Rambling, Rare Characters, Rare Pairings, Sexual Harassment, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Superheroes, Supervillains, Swearing, Very Secret Diary, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-10-12 12:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17467892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwimyGhost/pseuds/SwimyGhost
Summary: Poison Ivy has been in Arkham many times, so she knows the drill. She also knows how to impress the brutes the asylum calls guards and even Jeremiah himself. Her excellent behavior has granted her many things, extra dessert and even the exception of no personal items. Now, she receives a journal for two weeks of good behavior and not trying to kill her roommate. With this, she intends to record all the data she's gathered from studying her "babies". However, the people, for once, might be more interesting then the plants...





	1. First Page, First Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a combination of comics, movies, TV shows, and some headcanons and spinoffs, so sorry if things seem a little hectic. This is basically Poison Ivy's thoughts on the villains inside of Arkham Asylum and a more personal look on her ideology and beliefs. I also don't know when I'll update this story will be updated, probably not frequently; I can tell you that much. Nevertheless, enjoy!

I know the only people to likely “obtain” this journal would be Margaret or Harley, but I still believe I should warn that nobody should read this. This is my property and I wish to have the same respect that everyone else would have, even if I’m in Arkham. Note: I do know that the brutish guards will presumably grab this notebook and run their grubby hands through it’s ivory pages. Those of whom I am speaking about is my fellow “inmates” or simply peers as I prefer to call them.

For those who don’t know of me, my name is Pamela Isley, commonly known as Poison Ivy. I am what many would call an “eco-terrorist” and “an environmentalist nutjob” (that title was bestowed onto me by my ̶g̶i̶r̶l̶f̶r̶ companion Harley Quinn). But I am none of those things, I can assure you.

I am the protector of the Green and all It’s creations. More specifically, all of Earth’s flora and rid it of the fauna that intends to harm them.

Of course, I’ve tried many times to complete my eternal goal, but that blasted Batman has foiled them _each_ and _every_ time. Most pathetic humans would give up after being beaten for the umpteenth time; however, I am _not_ like most humans. For I follow the Green and I shall not disappoint it.

Yet, I must play by these “men and women of science” if I am to be allowed the privilege to keep my plants. So, I bare my teeth and act like an innocent and tame daisy instead of the sharp and beautiful rose I am. I do get me some bonuses nonetheless. I am allowed an extra helping of pudding and cupcakes for dessert and I was even lucky enough to get this journal.

When I was a botanist, I frequently kept binders and files stuffed with notes and observations in creaky rusted filing cabinets. These days, memory and mental notes were my guides into understanding the Green and It’s creations. Periodically, I dropped hints to the dim-witted guards that I desired a journal or some sort of object to keep track of my babies (Note: Magpie often suggested that I write on the walls to remember and chart the growth of my babies. Harley even offered to steal some lipstick as a writing device. I declined both suggestions.)

“Two weeks of good behavior and no violent outbursts makes you authorized to keep this” Jeremiah explained to me. He also threatened that he’d take this privilege away and my plants if I ever “tried to lay lips on him again”. I immediately unpinned him from the wall.

With this and a collection of a dozen pencils, I can finally record my research. And… I’ve noticed many things during my many stays here at Arkham. I’ve always noticed certain behaviors in the different inmates, the guards, and even that maniac Jeremiah himself. Perhaps this will be a tool to not just research plants, but the sociology of humans as well.

We shall see.


	2. Magpie-Relation: Roommate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How is Ivy's relationship with her roommate, Magpie?

It hasn’t been a full two days and already my insufferable roommate already has tried to steal my journal. She was successful in one attempt, but she only had it for a solid fifteen seconds before I noticed it’s disappearance.

Unlike Harley when she heard the news of my journal, it wasn’t the contents inside that enticed her. Quite the contrary, she was more interested in the shiny spiral part of it. Of course, after a good attempt at asphyxiation by silkvine, she groveled for my forgiveness and promptly handed it back to me without another word. 

Of course, the guards came and suddenly I was selected for “psychological evaluation” to see if I was a danger to myself or other inmates. In reality, it was a way to see if the typical brain-dead meat-stack guards could handle me. Obviously, I told them I wasn’t guilty of anything, but those fools never believe someone who is clearly superior to them. They pressed the issue and even got my roommate to explain her side of the story. After hours of discussing the problem, she was cited for “theft of another inmates possessions”. We were sent back to our cell without further incident.

Damn Magpie.

Magpie, Margaret Pye, has been my roommate for the past few months. She reminds me of Selina in many ways, though Magpie is a lot more violent than her. She also just wants “shinies”. Doesn’t matter if it’s a rare jewel or an aluminum can, Magpie wants it. 

It genuinely annoys me.

However, she's far from the worst person in this hellhole. She actually is very good at styling hair and her violent ways make her a good ally. A shame she must die to save the Green and all flora. (Note to Self: Ask Magpie to teach me how to do hair). 

Oh! I almost forgot! Magpie has a boy-toy named Daedalus Booch, Doodlebug. A bona fide homicidal artist who gifts my “lovely” roommate with “shinies” if she returns the gifts with casual or oral sex. Personally, I find their whole system and relationship a vile mess. I would never stoop as low to have sex with a h̶u̶m̶a̶n̶ man like Doodlebug. He isn’t even that good looking.

“It’s a good trade!” Magpie tried to sway me into liking him when I expressed my feelings toward him.

“Nothing is worth selling yourself like some sort of harlot,” I countered, “but I suppose you meat-stacks would find that behavior acceptable.”

She frowned and tossed a dull metal soda can at me. I made a thick vine block the can and pointed it semi-threateningly at her. She just scowled deeper.

“Ya know, just because you are a half-plant woman doesn’t mean you're any less human… Or any more special for that matter!”

“I say otherwise, for I am apart of the Green and you… Well… Definitely are not.” I calmly said. 

That conversation ended with Magpie building a wall of her “shinies” around her with sulking like an infant.

In conclusion, I don’t hate Magpie. In the end, yes, she will die for the sake of the Green. But for now, she will do my hair as long as I provide her with something shiny and also, surprisingly, will take care of my plants when I cannot. Admittedly, she would kill them all if I left them to her, but at least she tries. However, I wonder if I could get her to stop having sex with Doodlebug if I got her something extremely shiny…

On a different note, but venomous rose-venus fly trap hybrid has been dying at an alarming rate yet leaving so many engraved seeds behind. I wonder if I could breed them to die slower so they could actually be of use to me...


	3. Penguin-Relation: Foe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our follower of the Green has a few words to say about the "Capitalist Pig": Penguin.

Oswald Chesterfield Copperpot. That name could put any meat-stack to sleep. Hell, it puts me in a daze. But the person behind that name causes my blood to boil and my plants to writhe in disgust.

To me, he is nothing for then a capitalist pig with little regard for anything except for money. Although, I can respect his love of ornithology. People of scientist tend to share mutual respect between each other, which I how I convince myself on how I have some respect for the pudgy bird.

While I haven’t had too much interaction with the hunchbacked meat-stack, I can say I have no love for the man. His schemes and methodical attempts at earning money have no motive behind them other than him wanting it. Unlike me, he simply hoards it like a rat hoards it’s garbage collection.

I’ve learned from Harley he occasionally does dealings with the Joker. However, the Joker ends up betraying him on nearly all circumstances. It leads me to question his sanity although I know he is mentally stable.

Due to my lack of experience with the large-nosed man-pig, I cannot say that my observations are completely accurate. I’ve spoken with Magpie and Harley on their feelings towards him and I’ve gotten similar opinions.

“Penguin!” Magpie shrieked when I commented on him, “Sweetheart, do get me started on that pervert! You know all the hookers he has on standby?! Disgusting, I tell ya! He even offered me a spot on one of his “shows”. Fucking creep!”

I silenced myself so I didn’t counter her statement with the fact she was, technically, a prostitute herself.

“Oh! Da bird?” Harley tilted her head in confusion.  ̶K̶i̶n̶d̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶c̶u̶t̶e̶,̶ ̶m̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ ̶I̶ ̶a̶d̶d̶.

“Ya, I know ‘bout ‘im,” she continued, slurping on her spoiled soup loudly. “Mistah J an’ ‘im use ta’ work together sometimes. Though, Mistah J allllllways kick ‘im ta curb in da end, ya see? He thought he’d be a wasta’ space and a liability. Plus, he wanted dat sweet cash aaaaaall to ‘imself. ‘Course da Bird wasn’t too happy ‘bout it, but he couldn’ do any-thang when he was in jail or Ark’am, now could he?”

“If he had been betrayed so often by the Joker, want made him decide to keep going back to him. Clearly Joker wasn’t honest or kept his promises… So what made him come crawling back?” I asked.

Harley shrugged. “Da bird ain’t the brightest when it comes ta crime or character. True, he’s pretty good with dem birds an’ stuff, but crime? Nah, too gentleman-y and “refine”.”

Referring to the Penguin as “gentleman-y” made me chuckle, though it was more of a snort then anything.

Harley let out one of her infamous hyena cackles at that. “Red! I ‘aven’t ‘eard ya laugh in a while! You should do it more often!”

Conclusion? Penguin will most _definitely_ die when the Green takes over. I see no purpose in keeping him around. Maybe I’ll let my babies feast on him slowly so he can feel all the pain he has wrought on this planet.

Continuing on the rose-venus fly trap hybrid problem, I may have found a solution. I added a pure rose into the gene pool and I able to create a hybrid that didn’t die instantly (five hours, thirty minutes, twelve seconds after creation to be exact). Perhaps this batch won’t be so useless after all.


	4. Scarecrow-Relation: Former Partner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarecrow is one of the few villains Ivy deems frightening. What thoughts does she have on him?

If I am to be honest, Scarecrow’s mere presence frightens me.

I am not talking about his sickening toxic when I mention my fear of Scarecrow, his real name being Jonathan. His regular toxin doesn’t affect more nor does it it affect my children either; however, I cannot say the same about his more potent chemical mixtures.

Unlike Penguin, I can say I have worked with the man. In that single dealing, I was able to learn quite a lot about him.

His face is mangled due to all the experiments he performed on himself before turning to the citizens of Gotham. His long appendages remind me of a spider since they are incredibly skinny. That isn’t to say he doesn’t have any muscle, but he is weaker than most male meat-stacks.

Even though he lacks physical strength, he is powerful in mentally and emotionally toying with people’s emotions. Which is why I find him to be more threatening than most of the “brutes” that dub themselves criminals. 

During the single time we successfully worked together (before Batman demolished our plans), we were able to create a poisonous plant-based formula. I had intended it to us it on the unsuspecting Gotham populase; yet, I had to put my plans on hold due to the fact I discovered, in Jonathan’s notes, that he planned on using the toxin to incapacitate me and then planned on taking over Gotham by killing all the important members of their government and Batman.

Of course, I retaliated by pinning him to a wall with a nine-foot-long thorn at his throat. Batman swooped in like a… Well… Bat out of hell and took both of us down before we could settle our ̶f̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ ̶b̶a̶t̶t̶l̶e̶ disagreement. I was held in Blackgate before being shipped to Arkham while Jonathan was sent to Arkham immediately. 

Unsurprisingly, we were both released after three months of “good behavior”.

Since we are both in Arkham, I decided to actually try to speak with Jonathan.

I usually don’t speak with anyone except for Harley, Magpie, and those pesky therapists they keep trying to get me to “open up” to, so trying to speak to him may seem suspicious to the meat-stack shields (“Guards,” Magpie corrected me, “They’re called guards.”) Nevertheless, any scientist needs to do everything in the pursuit of science. 

Dinner time had rolled around and I already gathered my vegetarian meal (a water-downed salad with watery dressing and a glass of foggy water) and I scanned the freezing dining area for Mr. Crane (at this point, I had to call him that for professionalism). I spotted him in the far right corner of the room with a medical face mask around his neck. I advanced towards him with my head held high and hand hands gripping the spotty food tray.

As I approved, he barely gave me a passing glance. It was like he had disappeared into his very own fantasy realm as he munched on a presumably dry ham and mayo sandwich. As I stood across from the middle-aged twig, I narrowed my eyes.

“Crane.”

No response.

I sat across and half-slammed half-dropped the tray onto the metal table in the hopes of getting sort of action out of him. All it managed to do was stop him from chewing. I quickly shuffled into the long seat and laced my fingers together.

“We need to talk.”

He swallowed before letting out a raspy laugh. “I’m not going to plan a break out with you, Miss Ivy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please, I know that you know how things run in this deplorable penitentiary.”

“Big words for such a tamed tulip.” He snarkily commented as he tried to ignore me.

“This rose has thorns, Crane. You should be quite experienced with them.” I parried.

Jonathan raised his long head and glared at me with his fatigued eyes. I could tell he hadn’t received much sleep for at least two days. Most likely planning or creating some sort of twisted abomination meant to strike fear in the hearts of men. The dark circles were more like minuscule rocks that clung to the wrinkles under his faded eyes. He opened his mouth, revealing a set of worn down or chipped teeth, and grumbled.

“Just what do you want, Ivy. Can’t you see I’m trying to eat a delicious home-cooked meal?” He ushered at his mediocre meal.

“Dropping the formalities, are you, Crane?” I raised a thin eyebrow, “That isn’t very polite when you are speaking to a lady.”

“Get. To. The. Point.” Crane practically snarled.

I raised my hands in a silent surrender. “All I want is the ask a few questions.”

“Why? Are you working with cretins they call guards and psychologists?” He demanded.

“No, just some personal work I intend on conducting.” I answered.

He narrowed his eyes like a cat stalking it’s prey. “Well guess what, sweetheart. You’re not getting anything out of me. So beat it… I have enough problems I have to deal with.”

I eyed him for a bit longer before standing up swiftly. I grasped my tray and spun around to walk to my usual eating spot. When I got there, I saw Harley with the scaredest look on her face.

“Harley? What is the matter?” I asked ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶r̶y̶.

“I ‘eard you’d be talkin’ to Scarecrow! Wat’s up with dat!?” She practically shouted at me while launching herself at me.

I dodged and this sent her stumbling a few steps before gaining her balance. She whipped her head around a charged forward.

“WELL?!?!” She yelled once more.

“Relax, it was merely an investigation into his life. While he didn’t directly say anything to me, his actions spoke very clearly for him.” I explained while sitting down at the same time.

Shortly after, Harley dove into the seat and essentially became glued to my side. She swung her legs back and forth as she bombarded me with questions.

“Wat was he like? Does he really smell like death? Was he really as spider-y as people say he is? Ain’t he always gotta vial of toxin on ‘im or somethin’? Is he really ugly unda da mask or is he a meh.”

“He is alright for a man. Trust me, I have seen better and worse.” I answered, “He is just as spider-y as people claim. No, he doesn’t smell like death, though I am not sure if the gossip is true about him keeping a vial.”

“Whatever he is like, he is most definitely a creep.”

Suddenly, Magpie plopped down right across from Harley and I with a disgusted look on her face.

“He so creepy and lanky. He smells like a dying animal most of the time and girls, don’t get me started on his hair. It’s like he hasn’t seen shampoo or a shower or even a comb in, like, years!” Magpie ranted as he loudly chewed on her sandwich.

Harley snorted as she gripped my arm. “Sweetie puh-lease! You look like ya just stepped out of a failed 80s movie convention! So ya really ain’t in a position to talk, birdie.”

Magpie bared her teeth in a snarl. “Ya really wanna keep pushing my buttons, clown?”

Harley clutched my arm tighter as she pressed her chest into it. She gave an infamous crazed grin and retorted.

“Ya! Decides, even if I don’t win, which is veeeeeeeery unlikely, Red’s got my back an’ even if dat don’t work, Mistah J will kick ya ass straight to Sunday!”

Both Magpie and I just gave each other side-glances. The petty-thief was biting her lip semi-nervously while my mind was racing. Why? I don’t completely understand myself.

With my free hand, I rubbed my temple while also shaking Harley off.

“Enough, Harley,” I scolded. “Honestly, fighting is the last thing I want I my mind. I just wish to finish this lack-luster meal then tend to my babies.”

My clown companion just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, “Fine. If ya wanna act like dat Red, I’ll be petty with ya!”

The meal progressed without further incident

Conclusion on Scarecrow is that, like everyone else, he will die when the Green takes over. However, one must acknowledge his high intellect and chemistry skills. But at the moment of writing this, I have only one question on my mind. No, it isn’t about my preciouses, it’s about what Harley said. ‘Mistah J’ as she words it. My mind was filled with the most peculiar thoughts. Ones of jealousy, hate, and ones of murder.

I’m wondering if Harley or even the Joker have done anything to me. Maybe Crane poisoned my food? This will have to be explored further at a later date.


	5. Mr. Freeze-Relation: Former Partner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unlike the others, Ivy actually finds Mr. Freeze an interesting specimen. But for what reason?

Out of all the criminals, degenerates, and petty thieves that roam the streets of Gotham looking for their next victim, I can only say that one has a pure motive. While everyone else is either in it for the money or their personal gain, but this person and I are the only ones who have a true goal.

 

His name is Victor Fries, commonly known as Mr. Freeze.

 

Victor and I have an… Icy relationship to say the least.

 

We once tried to work together. Well, it was my plan to work together. I told him that my babies could hold a component for the cure he had (and currently is) been working on for his dying wife, Ms. Nora Fries. He bought it hook, line, and sinker even though I had no knowledge if my precious ones actually hold a secret miracle piece to the cure-puzzle.

 

The actual plan was to freeze the corrupt politicians, scientists, and businessmen who wished to tear down Gotham Park and turn it into a hotel/business complex. I knew many innocent seedlings and gentle giants who be mercilessly slaughtered during the demolition, so I knew I needed a partner in order to save the virtuous. I had originally considered Harley to aid me, but she was already back with the Joker (Note: I broke my pencil lead by the mere act of writing his name. Something strange is going on…). So, without my only true ally, I turned to Mr. Freeze.

 

I had some vague knowledge the chilly man. He hated most of the scientists in Gotham, especially those who have or still work at GothCorp. I do not have any knowledge on  _ why  _ he despises them so; nevertheless, I knew he’d be the perfect accomplice. I can still remember what I had said to him even though it has been a year.

 

“Dr. Fries,” I introduced myself calmly as a vine lowered me from Mr. Freeze’s ceiling. A gaping hole drenched my vine and I in icy cold rain, but that has never stopped me. Besides, I hardly feel it anymore.

 

“Ms. Ivy,” his thick German accent echoed off the metal walls of his ice-covered laboratory, “I cannot say that I am glad that you are… Here.”

 

Once the vine reached the snow-dusted floor, I sashayed towards him with a mild grin on my face.

 

“Why? Is it because you’re afraid I might… Wilt?”   
  


“Do not mock me, temptress!” Mr. Freeze spat, his voice filled with chipped ice. “After Nora was frozen, I have had to shoo away many of your kind.”

 

I chuckled. “I didn’t know there was other Ivy’s running around. Perhaps it was Basil Karlo?”

 

“You know what I meant!” He spat.

 

His clearly heavy cryogenic suit hissed has carbon dioxide fluttered to the ceiling. He let out a deep sigh, fogging up the glass dome around his head, and started walking to an unorganized desk. It was filled with papers with barely legible scribbles, blueprints, and almost an entire collection of pictures of his wife. The suit let out a softer hiss as I approached.

 

“I need your help, Victor.”

 

“Silence,  _ Tuefelin _ ,” Victor ordered as he reached out towards a blanketed object. “Can’t you see I am in the middle of something.

“What could you possibly be working on?” I scoffed.

 

He pulled back the blanketed object to reveal a floating body. The young woman was suspended in a light blue liquid with bubbles endlessly fluttering around her. The tube had a cold steam that existed from the bottom and floated to the top of the ice-surrounded laboratory. The only thing that was protecting Ms. Fries from the outside world was a thick layer of glass.

 

“Her… My  _ Geliebter _ ,” he murmured before placing a gloved hand on the glass. “She is my one and only.”

 

That was when I realized I could use Ms. Fries as a pseudo-blackmail. So, as I mentioned, I used my dears as a way to make the mournful scientist bend to my will. The only time he ever snapped at me was when I told him what his prize would be if he was my accomplish.

 

“You will be allowed to experiment on my plants,” I explained, “and… You will also receive a kiss.”

 

“You’re false lust is nothing compared to my  _ Geliebter’s  _ affections!” He spat.

 

I held my tongue, knowing fully well that I’d verbally lash him before physically. Anyways, we spent around two months sculpting the perfect plan and adding some playful flirtation into my dialogue. As you can probably guess, a certain someone ruined our plans. But it wasn’t Batman, oh no.

 

It was the Boy-Wonder.

 

Which one? The Green if I know. There is too many. Though I do not know their names, I can proudly say I know there has to have been at least two Robins since I have faced clearly different people.

 

To continue, this Robin was able to incapacitate Victor with this own ice (typical humans, being conned by their own inventions) and this left me semi-defenseless. I was able to trade blows with the insufferable brat before being pinned to the floor by an oversized bat. Not saying that I  _ didn’t  _ enjoy it, but I would have preferred doing something as personal as that in a more secluded place on my own terms.  

 

To make a long story short, we were both sent to Blackgate and I ended up using the unkept flora around the prison as my escape route. Of course, I did leave Victor.

 

He would have slowed me down and I didn’t really require him any longer. I returned to my home in Gotham City’s Botanical Gardens and plotted my next move.

 

I haven’t spoken to him since by virtue of the fact I knew he still harbors… Distasteful feelings towards me. Frequently he has tried to steal some of my children which leads to a fight between us. We both have almost slaughtered the other before some ‘Honorable Fighter of Justice’ put a stop to our supposed “ruckus”.

 

I’ve interviewed both Magpie and Harley on their views on Victor Mr. Freeze. I even received Jonathan’s Scarecrow’s beliefs on him.

 

“Freeze? Ya, I know him,” Magpie murmured, playing with her chicken salad with a bent fork. “he is that guy who uses that snow-cone maker, right?”

 

“I wouldn’t call it a ‘snow-cone maker’, Margaret.” I interrupted.

 

She rolled her eyes and stabbed her salad, “Anyways, all I know is he is  _ taken _ . Like, taken with a capital T. I offered him a blowjob for some pieces of his shiny shiny  _ shiny _ scrap metal. He didn’t just turn me down, he cussed me out in… What’s it called… Ger-main and that slapped me. He got taken out to his cell by the guards.”

 

“Ger-main!?” Harley yelled with applesauce dripping from her chin, “It’s German, ya dumbass!”

 

“Who you calling a dumbass, you clown posse reject!”

 

“I don’t even know wat dat means!” Harley hissed.

 

“It means your fucking some sideshow, ya freak!”

 

“Da only thang dats fre-kay if yer relationship with dat failed artist ova’ d-air!” 

 

“Hey! Don’t dis an artist, clown-girlie!” Doodlebug shouted back from his table, which held only Victor Zsasz. “Hey, baby, why don’t you come sit here. Since there isn’t enough room… I guess you’d have to sit on my lap, right, Zsasz?”

 

Victor didn’t respond, just looked at the many empty spots at the table.

 

“Shut the fuck up, Doodle!” Magpie swore venomously. “You can take that baby dick of yours and shove it up your ass!”

 

She whipped her head away from the stunned man and continued eating. This left Harley and me speechless.

 

“So… I assuming you and… Doodlebug are having a row?” I questioned.

 

“Yes, and I ain’t talking about it.”

 

Our conversation ended there about Doodlebug, but not about Mr. Freeze. Harley told me that he considered the Joker a menace to Gotham (“How could he say dat ‘bout Mistah J!” she wailed.) and often fought him over money, tools, and many another random assortment of items that made me doubt the sanity of Mr. Freeze.

 

“Ahhh… Victor Fries… I am quite fond of him,” Scarecrow told me wistfully. “He isn’t like the others, no. He has heart and a goal, unlike so few of these so-called ‘super-villains’.” 

 

“I must agree with you on that point, ‘Crow.” I added before taking a sip of water.

 

He chuckled. “Crow? Are we becoming friends that quickly, Ivy?”

 

“We are  _ not  _ friends.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

 

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright,  _ chill  _ out, Ivy. You might end up like Freeze though.”

 

When I didn’t push him for answers, he leaned crossed towards my face.

 

“You’ll turn weak hearted and won’t do what needs to be done. You’ll become pathetic and… Emotional. Ugh, I, personally, stopped listening to my emotions years ago. You should too, unless you want to be a dainty daisy.”

 

“I  _ won’t _ .” I bared my teeth in an angry fashion.

 

He grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Good. Now, about those flowers, you promised me…”

 

Conclusion for the day: Freeze is a ̶h̶o̶n̶o̶r̶a̶b̶l̶e̶ ̶g̶o̶o̶d̶ pathetic excuse for a man who will die at my hands once Gotham is under  _ my  _ control. I will drink the liquid that blankets Nora’s body like a fine wine while my babes tear her limb from limb.

 

I am not weak. I am strong. I am Poison Ivy.  

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! School kept me busy! I will try to write more often!


	6. Catwoman-Relation: Unspeakable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivy met an old friend last night. They exchanged b̶l̶o̶w̶s̶ greetings and have a pleasant time.

While not a member of this Asylum, I saw her on this fine evening. 

 

Magpie had broken out of her cell after insinuating that she’d be violently attacking Doodlebug’s nether reigns. I, personally, didn’t wish to be apart of this high school drama so allowed her to leave without alerting the guards.

 

While taking notes about the various plants growing along my side of the room, I heard the slight thuds of some sprinting on the tiled roof.

 

Hearing bumps in the night isn’t uncommon in Arkham, so I pretended to ignore it whilst preparing one of the dozens of vines curled up on my bed to strike.

 

Then, a faint knocking on my bulletproof window.

 

I continued to ignore it.

 

Suddenly, a soft muffled voice echoed from behind the window. I turned to see a pair of yellowish-brown eyes staring blankly at me, hidden behind a pair of orange goggles. The figure that the colorful orbs belong to waved and shifted to allow herself to be more comfortable. 

 

It made sense since she was upside down.

 

Using the already readied vine, I lifted the window up with a flick of the wrist. Dust sputtered everywhere as it dropped onto the floor with a  _ thud _ . The figure didn’t even seem surprised, just gave a cat-like smile.

“What do you want, Selina?” 

 

The curvaceous figure elegantly performed a flip into my cell and landed with the grace of a dancer. Her latex suit left nothing to the imagination since the zipper was pulled as low as she could to flaunt as much cleavage as she could.

 

“Can’t a girl visit an old friend, Pamela?” she cooed.

 

“We both know that’s not what you want,  _ Selina _ .” I chided while reading more of my vines.

 

Selina Kyle, infamously and more commonly known as Catwoman, gave another sickening grin before pacing around me. 

 

Just like an alley cat would with its prey. 

 

I noticed that her hand was inching closer to the twelve-foot long belt that hung intentionally loose. Her fingers shone due to the silvery cat-like nails at the ends of them. It was a good thing Magpie wasn’t here or the cretin would’ve jumped her from them.

 

“Do you want an honest answer, Pamela, or do you want the one that suits you most?” Selina asked with a purr to her voice.

 

“How about the one that will make your death less painful?” I retorted.

 

Selina scowled. “Why must you be like this? We used to be friends, remember?”

 

“You were the one who wanted us to go our separate ways and I acquiesced. Besides, I betrayed you,  _ remember _ ?” 

 

A vine lifted it’s sharp thorn-like end and wheezed. A cloud of pink mist floated around until it evaporated into nothingness. Selina eyed it with annoyance before drawing her attention back to me.

 

“Fine. I wanted to visit you specifically. Is that too much to ask?”

 

I was actually stunned by her confession. Selina didn’t talk with others unless they had something she desired. So, I reasonably associated this “appointment” with some sort of burglary plan she had concocted.

“I don’t see meaningless jewels and material items as crucial as you do. You’re better off discussing this matter with Magpie once she returns from solitary confinement.”

 

“You know that isn’t why I’m here, Ives.” Selina murmured softly.

 

I didn’t.

 

I nodded and crossed my arms instead. The vines inched closer like a frightened animal. But I wasn’t a frightened animal,  _ I _ was a fearsome predator. My knowledge reigned superior over this petty cat burglar. 

 

“Good, then how are you, Ivy.” Selina asked casually. 

 

I was halted in my tracks. Even my vines shuttered in confusion. 

 

What? A conversation? What was this cat’s game? What did she want? 

 

The walls seemed to close in on other. Cold stone smashing a beautiful plant and a filthy street cat together like two bothersome flies. Her almost caring stare trapped me like a bear caught in a trap. 

 

“Wh- No, this is a trick,” I concluded.

 

“Ives, no.” Selina countered while flexing her claws. “This isn’t a lie. Not even a little fib. Just… I just wanted to… To talk, ya know?”

 

“And you say Batman is a terrible liar.” I narrowed my eyes and cocked my head.

 

The vines hissed as they launched themselves around Selina. With a loud yelp, one of the thick dark green tendrils flung the thief into the wall. She gasped for air as she slumped to the ground. Another grabbed her right ankle and lifted her into the air. Her chest heaved as the vine snaked closer to my face. I grabbed her chin tightly and forced her to look at me. While she struggled to break free, I started talking.

 

“I know your games, Selina. You'd've incapacitated the guards as well as I if it meant gaining your next score. What is it, if I may ask. Is that jumped-up ape your target? Or perhaps maybe Magpie and her pile of trinkets? Or maybe-”

 

“No!” Selina shouted, shaking back and forth. “I swear to… To the Green… That I’m here to talk.”

 

“Do  _ not  _ use the Green’s name against me!” I spat, tightening the vines around her.

 

“S-Sorry… Ives.”

 

Suddenly, in a flash of silver in the pure moonlight, a burning sensation exploded across my face. I wailed in agony as I clutched my face with both hands. I heard a  _ thud  _ and immediately, Selina was on me. 

 

She slammed arms above my hand as she pressed her body against mine. The cold glass that held us plus the burning pain created a eminently painful combination. Selina narrowed her cat-like eyes into slits before she said.

 

“Listen to me, I… Swear I’m not lying.”

 

“Prove it.”

 

Selina stood still, which was a trademark symbol of hers that meant she was lying. I bared my teeth and growled.

 

“I knew it.”

  
“Ives, please just listen-” she begged.

 

“I don’t have to!” I shouted back. “Just….  **_Leave_ ** !”

 

Two of my spore-spreading plants exploded from their pots and were on Selina in seconds. Selina tried to swat them away, but once that attached to her costume they already were planning their next attack. Once she was distracted, I slammed my head against her’s. Though the pain was great, my adrenaline counter-acted it and I was able to push her down. Sensing the impending danger, my babies released their infamous pink mist. Selina gasped and her muscles seized up. 

 

WIth a crash, the crafty Catwoman laid on the ground gasping for air. She didn’t even try to move and I smiled.

 

It was just a paralyzing mist, it was one that caused the muscles to seize up and burn. Internally, it would be like your muscles were on fire.

 

And there was nothing she could do.

 

I lifted my hand and a large vine crashed onto my bed and slithered up to its full height. I grinned as it nuzzled against my cheek.

 

“Iv….Ivy….”

 

I froze in place. Why? I have no clear answer. But the patheticness… No… The  _ pain  _ in her voice caused something. I have no theory on to what that feeling was. But whatever it was, I was able to snap back to reality and faced Selina.

 

“I… Iv... Pamela… N-No.” Selina stuttered, reaching a weak hand out.

 

I remained frozen. The seconds felt like hours as I blankly watched Selina cough and spit out pleads for help. I knew the paralysis wouldn’t last much longer and that I, reasonably, should kill her. But I couldn’t.

 

My vine noticed my hesitation and it nudged me forward as if to say ‘ _ finish the job _ ’.

 

“Tell… Tell me the truth.” I indeed stammered.

 

Although I sounded like a scared like girl, I kept my head held high and my vine ready. The pain throughout my body ceased to exist and instead was replaced with numbness. A kind of numbness I had never felt before. It was like I was mentally exhausted.

 

“I… I…” Selina took a raspy breath. “I was sent… By the Bat.”

 

My eyes widened in shock. “The Bat… Batman?”

 

She nodded. I could tell the paralysis was wearing off because I noticed her fingers twitching.

 

“Oh, so the rumors are true,” I replied snarkily. “You’ve become the Bat’s tamed kitty. Do you also cuddle with him at night?”

 

Selina blushed a bright scarlet as she retorted. “It’s nothing like that! We’re just partners.”

 

“...Partners? Which kind?” I cheekily asked.

 

“You know which one!” she shouted. Clearly, breathing wasn’t a problem anymore. 

 

“Do I?” 

 

Selina snarled and tried to stand, only to fall backward and right unto the window. Hissing and cursing, she rubbed the back of her head indignantly. As she did that, I glanced around the cell.

 

It was already a disaster due to Magpie’s hoarding problem, but this was on another level. Dirt and pot bits were scattered across the floor like sprinkles on a cupcake. The two babies that had paralyzed Selina were withered husks and one vine laid dying. Jeremiah and his human shields would site me in the morning for being “distracting” others from their sleep and cluttering up my room. The lights flickered which made me wonder if we were going to have another power outage.

 

“You could easily escape, Ives. Why don’t you?” Selina finally asked.

 

For the second time this night, I hesitated.

 

Selina was right. I  _ can  _ escape whenever I want. I could terrorize those who have harmed the planet significantly. I could finally end the Batman and sacrifice his corpse to the babies who can’t wait to feast on his flesh. Fauna will perish for what they had done to innocent flora of the world.

 

Yet, something was keeping me here. But what?

 

“I know,” I replied, “I am biding my time. Studying the Sociology of the humans that roam these halls are quite fascinating to me. Their… Petty arguments and affairs and the inner workings of their minds are simply astounding. The complexities of their lives make me shudder with joy every time I learn a new piece to the human puzzle!”

 

Selina groaned as she stood up and dusted herself off. Her movements were stiff and heavy-like, but I knew it wouldn’t last much longer. “Poison Ivy has taken up human Sociology. That’s something I have to tell Br- Bats.”

 

I didn’t quite hear what she said at the beginning, but her ending with ‘Bats’ really amazed me.

 

“It’s true… You’re really close with the Batman. And I thought Harley was kidding.” I mumbled thoughtfully.

 

Selina narrowed her eyes. “Don’t mention her name. Just tell me how both of you are doing and I’ll be out of your luscious scarlet hair.”

 

“ _ Harley _ ,” I started, “is actually her normal, bubbly self. I am as refined as always. I do not see why you need to pry into my life.”

 

“Bats thinks you guys can change,” Selina explained with a huff, “he thinks that if you guys can be convinced not to do any more crimes or threaten anyone, that you’ll be allowed back into society.”

 

I rolled my eyes at this. “Well tell ‘Bats’ that he cannot simply throw us anyway like trash. I  _ will  _ have my revenge on this world and the Green will rule.”

 

I stepped forward and narrowed my eyes. “I know you are still bitter about the Sirens. You may claim and feign that everything is alright, but you blame Harley and me.”

 

Selina turned her head swiftly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

Without another word, the cat burglar kicked the cracked window out of the way and leaped through the wall gap. Just like a cat, she flees with she feels a slight sense of danger, even when it’s nothing. 

 

Using a vine, I placed the window back in its spot and that’s where the story ends. But I have many questions for myself.

 

Why didn’t I kill her?

 

Why is Batman worried about us?

 

Why is Selina following him?

 

What is happening to me? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always headcanoned Selina to be very upset over the fact Harley betrayed the Gotham City Sirens for the Joker, although she kept her true feelings hidden to not seem weak. While she tolerates Ivy, she still is bitter about it but does what Batman says. Please comment what Asylum member you want in the chapter after the next one. The next one will be about a certain Pyg...
> 
> BONUS PART: Magpie just entered the room and stood in the center with a horrified expression. "wHAT THE FUC-!"   
> I may be in trouble.


	7. Professor Pyg-Relation: None

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivy got more then she bargained for when she decided to look into the schizophrenic Circus leader. Scarecrow lost some hay in the process.

Professor Pyg and his Circus of Strange are a strange bunch, to say the least.

 

I’ve never found Pyg to be particularly useful or even a possible ally. His Dollotrons and his mere deranged nature make him unsuitable for any task I’d need for him. 

 

Nevertheless, it makes him and his gang of misfits an interesting case-study on the effects of what I dub “A Gang of Unstable Miscretins Lead By a Schizophrenic Man Pig”.

 

First I should discuss the deceased members of the Circus. Big Top died in Blackgate due to starvation, Phosphorus Rex “tragically” was “accidentally” killed by a group of lowly Arkham thugs with the use of a fire extinguisher and a spray bottle filled with water, Siam died on the operating table when a doctor tried to split the triplets, and finally, Mister Toad was found dead in his cell at the Gotham City Police Department.

 

The only original members of the Circus that are alive are Pyg himself and Flamingo, a rather flamboyant member who rides a pink motorcycle. Flamingo was here only for a brief period before being released due to budget cuts. Prior to his leave, I remember observing him frequently bullying and violently attacking the lowly criminals and mentally ill.

 

“Flamingo tried to eat someone’s nose off, ya know!?” Magpie shouted at me as she stretched. We were finally allowed to get some free time outside and she wanted to play basketball while Doodlebug graffitied the count.

 

“Yes, I heard he was a cannibal that last time he was here,” I said.

 

“ _ Is _ . Apparently, he still does it to this day.” Magpie corrected. “Hey, Doodle-Sweetie! Could ya move? I wanna play B-Ball with some of your friends.”

 

“I will  _ kill  _ you, little bird.” Victor Zsasz threatened, flexing his under-used muscles and stepping onto the court.

 

“Shut up, Tally-boy! Let’s play, doll!” Doodlebug said softly before walking up to Magpie and getting a handful of her rear.

 

Magpie cooed and chuckled loudly then turned to me, “Aren’t you coming? We could use an extra player.”

 

I shook my head. “No, but thank you. If you want someone to play with you, get Killer Croc. Perhaps the future handbag will be of use to you.” 

And with that, I took my leave.

 

I surveyed the grounds to see if I could find Harley since I hadn’t seen her that entire morning. I continued walking throughout the grounds, swiftly avoiding potential muggings and fights by threatening those morons with my superior abilities. Alas, I couldn’t find her. Instead, I found an old scarecrow laying in a pile of thistles.

 

“Miss Ivy!” it called. “What a pleasant surprise, though it is only natural to spend some time out in the sun, being a plant and all.”

 

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “Good to see you too, Jonathan.”

 

Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow’s, grin devolved into a frown. He nestled deeper in with the thistles like a pouty child being forced to go to bed.

 

“And here I thought we were becoming friends.” Scarecrow sighed dramatically.

 

“We were never friends, Crow.” I retorted. “We were simply colleagues that  _ one  _ time. May I also remind you that  _ you  _ were planning to kill  _ me _ .”

 

Scarecrow rolled his eyes and started to play with the orange sleeves of his jumper, the same jumper we all wore. “Not kill you, my dear. No, you were too important.”

 

“No, I planned on keeping you alive for as long as I could,” he explained. “The plants you created only listened to you, so I knew I had to keep you alive so they wouldn’t… Well… Slice me to pieces. My plan was to use the toxin to keep you weakened, but alive enough to keep the plants stable until I took over Gotham. But, as you remember, a certain  _ bat  _ destroyed that arrangement.”

 

“An arrangement that would’ve must certainly failed,” I commented. “I would’ve strangled you before you even could get close to me. Besides, why would you tell me this? This just allows me to kill you with more of a justification.”

 

He shrugged. “You brought it up. As well as a need to monologue. It has be a long time since I’ve been able to do  _ that _ .”

 

“How stereotypical,” I smirked.

 

“At least I’m not throwing seeds around here like rice at a wedding,” Scarecrow growled. “Yes, I know these thistles are yours. The pink accents and red highlights are a trope of yours, aren’t they? And you dub me stereotypical.”

 

Internally, I was raging. How dare he accuse me of something, even if it was true. Doesn’t this filthy pile of rags know what I am capable of. I can use every plant in this facility to kill  _ everyone _ and escape with having to use any muscle. Before I could react, he raised his hand to silence me.

 

“Ah ah ah, be careful Ivy. You don’t wanna get hurt, do you?” 

 

Unexpectedly, Scarecrow pulled a rusty knife from the breast area of the jumper and waved it at my face, even though I was standing and he was sitting slumped against a wall. I didn’t flinch or give a reaction.

 

“What? Not afraid?” he asked with a shocked tone. “Don’t you realize I could become Professor Pyg right now… Just reach my arm out a little more than-”

 

“You know Pyg?” I interjected.

 

“Of course I know him,” he snorted, “I  _ work  _ with him.”

 

I was stunned. “You’re a member of the Circus?”

 

“What? No. I have been his colleague for many years.” Scarecrow explained.

 

“...And what?”

 

He narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

 

“What has happened between you and him? What made you believe that he was a good potential associate? What are his mannerisms? What are-”

 

“Alright, no need to overwhelm me, Ivy,” Scarecrow warned. “He’s crazier than all of us… Well, everyone besides Joker and his Harlot… He believes he can turn anyone to the perfect creatures since his God told him too. Other than that, I pretty much used him for my toxins. My most recent mixture has a multitude of equations taken directly from his own work. He is simply a mad genius with a little more emphasis on the mad. To be honest, the reason I selected  _ him  _ as a co-worker was because… Well… He’s genuinely the most terrifying individual and I  _ love  _ it.”

 

I remained silent for a few heartbeats. Nothing was burning across my chest. A sort of hatred that felt like a hot iron was pressed against my skin. Before I realized, I was on top of Scarecrow with blood on my fists.

 

“W-WhAT thE FUCK!” he gasped.

 

A roaring noise filled my ears and all I saw was a fiery red. I heard muffled screams and pleads for me to halt my assault, but I didn’t. 

 

I couldn’t.

 

Why I did just use my plants, I didn’t know. All I remember was a prick in my neck and me gasping. A powerful serum floated through my veins and raged through my body. Blackness consumed my sight before I tumbled to the ground.

 

Next thing I knew I was strapped down to a hospital bed while wearing a long white gown. Everything was cold and my throat burned. Clearly, I had been drugged for a long period of time. The pure white walls taunted me and seemed to revel in my suffering. I struggled with the leather bonds, but they refused to give even the slightest amount of leeway. Suddenly, the metal door that laid in front of me screeched open. I half-expected Jeremiah to come in and spout his semi-insane semi-zealot-like speech about the importance of patient safety (although he, on numerous occasions, has experimented on his own patients against their will.)

 

Instead, a pudgy nurse wearing a plain nurse’s uniform stepped forward with a stiff plastic clipboard. Her smile was clearly fake, so was her red hair. The wrinkles around her eyes and forehead made her appear twenty years older, despite the fact she certainly in her mid-thirties. 

 

“Hello there, Miss Isley.” She greeted with false cheer.

 

“I’m in the psychiatric ward, aren’t I?” I declared.

 

She seemed taken aback, but stood her ground and replied. “Why, yes, you are! It’s just a safety precaution to ensure-”

 

“Spare me the lecture, nurse,” I interjected, “I’ve heard it more times then your mind can fathom.”

 

Once again, she was stunned into silence. But instead of just losing her calm, she lost her entire persona as well.

 

“Well,  _ Ivy _ ,” she snarkily replied, “I don’t give a damn if you’ve heard this inauguration speech, you’ll listen or else I’ll give you a more powerful dosage.”

 

“Try me.”

 

This made her go quiet. Finally, she growled and started writing something down on her clipboard. While she murmured bitterly to herself, I decided to try and look over her shoulder to see if I could recognize anyone. 

 

And I sure did.

 

“O’ my gawd! Is dat you, Red?” 

 

Harley Quinn, my closest friend  ̶(̶m̶a̶y̶b̶e̶ ̶m̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶)̶, shoved the nurse to the ground with her muscular body, at the same time, she was bouncing in place. Her red and blue streaked blonde hair was a complete disaster which made her wear her madness completely on her sleeve. Plus, the dirty and ripped straight jacket wasn’t helping her image.

 

“Harley... How did you-?” 

 

“Oh! I’d bin not takin’ my meds for da past few weeks,” she explained, “they realized an’ put me in ‘ere.” 

 

“Why am I not surprised,” I grumbled.

 

“Miss Quinzel!” the nursed yelled, standing up and dusting herself off with an angry look in her eyes.

 

“Oh ya, forget ya existed. Sorrrrr-ieeeee!” Harley whined playfully.

 

The nurse threw her hands up in the air. “Stop it, Mis Quinzel! Go back to your seat outside! ...Please.” 

 

Harley tilted her head to the left and stuck out her tongue thoughtfully. “Hmmm… NAH!”

 

I didn’t burst out in exuberant laughter because I had to retain a professional attitude as to not remain in this abysmal ward any longer. But I did smirk at the nurse’s jagging mouth and her stunned expression. Definitely, this nurse was one of the fresh meat staff. 

 

She wouldn’t last a month if she survived that long.

 

“W-Well, umm, I need to...uh… Handcuff Miss Isely before she gets evaluated by Doctor Ungeubt.”

 

Dr. Ungeubt. I know that name well. His last name indisputably the uttermost ironic last name I ever knew (and I know a man called  _ Fries _ ) due to it meaning ‘untrainied’. And it shows.

 

“Ooooh, Doc U-goo?” Harley questioned in her thick accent.

 

“Yes, Ungeubt. A joyful and  _ skilled  _ professional. Wouldn’t you acknowledge that claim, Miss Nurse?” I taunted the nurse casually.

 

The nurse remained silent before turning to leave the room. She re-appeared only a few minutes later with a pair of rusty iron handcuffs that covered the whole hand with it’s frigid blaze. Another component that I was familiar with in this ten layer of Hell.

 

“Now… I just need to-”

 

“Just get on with it,” I moaned with annoyance, “this certainly isn’t the first time I’ve partaken in this ritual.”

 

Harley chuckled as the nurse sighed in defeat. “Jeez, Red. You say too many big words.”

 

“Really? That thought has  _ never  _ once crossed my mind.” I replied snarkily as the nurse clipped the cuffs into place.   

 

“Ya don’t need to git sarcastic with me, Red,” Harley grumbled with shifting around in her jacket.

 

Once the nurse was finished, she lead both of us into a petite room barely able to fit the already existing members that it housed. The white walls and single hanging industrial light fixture taunted the people inside the room with it’s purity. Guards were stationed next to the bulletproof door that was the only exit from the nightmare-inducing ward. Although there are much bigger rooms in the ward, I notice they like to keep people waiting in this room specifically so they receive more insurance from their patients when they attack someone.

 

And it’s a miracle this place remains open.

 

The nurse sat us down on the remaining two chairs and told us to wait for the “good doctor” then promptly rushing away from the overly energetic and creepily smiling Harley.

 

“‘Av you bin in the crazy dump, Red?” she asked with a bubbly tone.

  
I shrugged. “Once or twice. I usually don’t make a habit of returning here, unlike you.”

 

She chuckled loudly, which frightened the mentally unstable people mumbling to themselves on the ground. “Awwwww Red! You certainly do luv to tease me, do ya?!” 

 

I smirked. “Indeed.”

 

We sat in silence for a few moments with Harley humming some obnoxious tone to herself while I gazed around the room. I hadn’t seen anyone I could put a name to; most of the people seemed like regular insanity shrunken patients, their wild eyes and twitchy body movements on full display. However, I then noticed one particular man that was sitting in the seemingly lifeless corner.

 

He was both pudgy and muscular and his neck was a thick layer of blubber. His head was bald with numbers tattooed around his entire head. His orange jumper and pants were extra large to accommodate his mere size. They were incredibly dirty with dirt and slash marks running all along the sides. Once I noticed him, he made eye contact with me. We stared at each other for a while before he spoke.  

 

“Do you know what day it is, Miss Ivy?”

 

“I cannot say I do, Calendar Man,” I responded.

 

“Julian, please,” he corrected, “and to ask the question, it is Chaos Never Dies day, which is quite fitting your what you did today.”

 

“Wat did Red do?” Harley piped up which halted her humming.

 

“Harley…” I said with an edge in my voice.

 

“Your friend here, Miss Quinzel, has decided to severely beat the Scarecrow. With her hand fists! I’m certainly impressed, Miss Ivy. I, personally, thought you’d strangle the fear-inducer with your mighty vines of yours. I guess everyone can uproot someone else's expectations.”

 

“I fail to see how this correlates with this supposed holiday,  _ Julian _ .”

 

“Well,” he began to explain, “some people believe this is the day to fully embrace the chaos that flows through us all and let all our more… Antisocial urges. This usually results in major partying or minor property damage. However,  _ I  _ usually take this day to go out with the women who wish to be with me. Of course, they never last long, but they were merely acting out their urges. And this goes back to  _ you _ , Miss Ivy. You were simply taking out your urges on this blessed day of chaotic acceptance, am I wrong?”

 

“Very.” I answered with a narrowed glare.

 

He opened his mouth to speak, but then the nurse from before stepped out with the same clipboard in hand.

 

“Mr. Day,” she called, “Doctor Fujimoto is ready for you.”

 

He gave a mild grin before standing up. The bulk of his muscles were more predominant as he walked across the room to the door that lead to rows of doctors offices. Julian looked back at me and nodded.

 

“Take care, Miss Ivy.”

 

“I can’t say the same for you.” I crossed my legs as I stood up straighter in my chair.

 

Julian just grunted and followed the nurse into the hallway. She closed the door with a loud  _ bang _ , which made many of the patient yelp in terror. I thought my headache was over until I noticed Harley was staring at me with an amazed expression.

 

“What?”

 

“Wat!” she shouted. “Whadda ya mean ‘wat’. Ya fought Scarecrow?! Why?! Is dis because of dis whole Chaos day or whateva’?”

 

“Of course not,” I retorted, “just he was just annoying and said some… Offensive words towards one of my few companions. Do not worry, I made sure to beat him thoroughly.”

 

“Wow, didja really do a numba’ on ‘im or are ya’ fakin’ it.”

 

Before I could answer, the door opened once more and I was taken about.

 

A slightly overweight Caucasian male wearing a blue surgical mask. His meaty hands with placed in extra thick cuffs that were too tight around his wrists judging by the loss of color in both hands. His eyes were dulled, either by lack of emotion or medicine. The male nurse following him promptly stuck him in a chair across from Harley and me. 

 

“Whoa… Is dat..?”

 

“Pyg.” I stood up quickly.

Instead of looking at me, he looked at his hole-ridden socks.

 

I walked towards him and stood only a few steps away from him, allowing me to defend myself if need be. He didn’t even acknowledge my presence, just murmured.

 

“I talked to Scarecrow. Poor man won’t allow me to unlock his inner beauty.”

 

I lightly kicked his foot. “Answer me.”

 

He slowly lifted his head. “Such an ugly face on an elegant body.”

 

Harley stood up swiftly. “WHADDA SAY YOU PIG FACED FUCKER!?”

 

“Harley, calm yourself.” I ordered, “Listen Pyg, I just want to ask some simple questions.”

 

“I have nothing to say to the ugliness that your pathetic mouth spews,” Pyg grumbled, looking deeply into my eyes.

 

“Ooooh… Dat does it.” Harley snarled, stepping forward.

 

“Harleen!” I yelled.

 

Harley stopped with blinked with what seemed to be like childlike confusion. All of the patients, even the guard with their forced bravado, were watching us with intense glares. I took a deep breath.

 

“...Please.” I added with a softer tone.

 

She grunted, but stood directly behind me with a determined look upon her face.

 

“You’re… Just like him.” Pyg said.

 

Both Harley and I glanced at each other with confusion in our eyes. She just shrugged and shifted around in her jacket. I turned back to Pyg with a straight face.

 

“Who is him?”

 

His mask stretched out, implying he was smiling.

 

“Who else but the Joker, Poison Ivy.”

 

My heart started to race, which was extremely strange since my plant-like body usually kept my organs at a slow, but productive pace. The amygdala part of my brain was releasing the primal fight or flight emotion. It felt like I was rooted to the ground, unable to move or even speak. Then, I start Harley bust out into a hyena laugh. Both Pyg and I looked at her, one with a puzzled expression and the other with the look of trying to remain calm.

 

“Red… Bein’... Mistah J! Hahahahahaha!” Her laugh turned violent as a grin pure hatred filled her face. Drool dripped from down her mouth like a rabid dog. Her eyes shook with both hatred and uncertainty.

 

“Mistah J is  _ way _ … Way… Way better then…” Harley’s arms were shaking in the jacket. Drool dripped onto the floor as if her mouth was a leaky faucet. She dropped her head and stood still.

 

Pyg snorted. “You see, Poison Ivy? So many bodies on the horrors of the world. Some have the faces of ugliness, of anger, but most, as you see in this sanatorium, have the face insanity. As you should know, everyone with a face of insanity is broken, both in body  _ and  _ mind. But I can fix it. I can fix them all.”

 

“Shut up Pyg, I have heard enough. Come on, Harley. We don’t need to listen to this asinine swine.”

 

I moved to turn around, but Pyg was already on his feet and he grabbed my shoulder. The guards were already moving towards us, but I could tell they were quivering in their boots.

 

“Don’t walk away from me. You need to become perfect.”

 

I heard a familiar sound. The sound of a scalpel being raised into the air. I’ve had to deal with manatics welding then before. They weren’t a major threat. But with the small space and the dozen or so people kept locked in such a tight space, I knew I had to be careful or else  ̶H̶a̶r̶l̶e̶y̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ I could get hurt. Before I could plan my next move, Harley charged.

 

Shrieking, she kicked the bottom of Pyg’s jaw. He stumbled backward, causing him to drop the scalpel. But Harley was done with her assault. She leaped into the air and kicked him in the stomach which propelled her back and slamming Pyg into the wall. Harley landed with the grace of an acrobat and was about to charge again before the tackled her to the ground.

 

I don’t understand what came over me, but I knew I had to keep Harley from hurting herself. This was strange because I never felt this sort of attachment before. 

 

I sat on her stomach with my lands at her sides. Her hands were swinging like a swing caught in the wind. Her screams pierced my ears and a headache forming. I saw that a fist was being formed and I grabbed her hand tightly.

 

“Harley! Harleen! Harleen, it’s me!”

 

Harley froze. I froze. Everyone froze, except for Pyg was my whining about his back.

 

“R-Red?” Harley spoke.

 

“Yes, it’s me,” I said  ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶a̶ ̶w̶a̶r̶m̶ ̶s̶m̶i̶l̶e ̶, “everyone is fine.”

 

“No.”

 

I was confused by her words. Tears welled up in her eyes as she violently started shaking her head. I had to dodge a fist and tried to put more weight on her, but guards had bust through the door and ripped me off. As I crumbled to the ground, I tried to grab hold of a meat-stack’s pant leg. This was unsuccessful as another meat-stack guard pulled a tranquilizer gun and fired twice. One hit the floor whilst the other hit my shoulder. I bared my teeth and pulled it out, smashing the glass against the ground.

 

Among the chaos, I saw Harley crying and screaming in terror. I tried to pull myself up, but the drugs were kicking in faster than I could imagine. As I fell into another forced slumber, I listened to the sound of Harley’s wails.

 

“He is better… She is better…  _ He  _ is better…  _ She  _ is better… HE IS BETTER SHE IS BETTER HE IS BETTER SHE IS BETTER HE IS BETTER SHE-”

 

Nothing.

That was two weeks ago and finally, I was released from the ward and sited. Some of my more dangerous plants were taken away and I was left with only a handful of tamed flowers. This journal still remained, which I am thankful for. Magpie tried to ask me why I attacked Scarecrow, but I aggressively told her to mind her business. This made her scurry away, probably to Doodle for comfort.

 

I have many questions, but only two answers.

 

One, the attack on Scarecrow wasn’t due to some human-made holiday. It was one word that made me lose control of my mind and lunge. 

 

_ Harlot _ .

 

That filthy word is salt on a wound. Burning and infectious while also eating away at the skin. Harley didn’t deserve that. If anything, Magpie is more worthy of that title as well as her consort.

 

And finally, something is happening to me and I cannot figure out why. Perhaps it is this building? Or maybe the “medicine” they force down my throat is the problem. Whatever the cause, I will find it and stop it.

 

To end on a more scientific note, my research on Pyg is done. I have nothing else to say about this repugnant man and his twist psyche. More people are needed for my research and Arkham has a perfect supply of them.       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longer chapter, the next one will be on a riddle master who I am not certainly fond of. If you like this story, please tell me what other villains you want! I know I'm not the best writer so thank you for the number of Kudos I've gotten. It's not a lot, but it keeps me working! Writing Ivy is certainly difficult because I am most definitely not a plant-human hybrid scientist.  
> Also, did you like the Calendar Man cameo? I prefer the Arkhamverse costume and look of him because his original comic look well... It looks dumb, to say the least.  
> Thank you for reading!


	8. The Riddler-Relation: None

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivy meets a certain man known for his riddles. While they have a chat, all doesn't end up in his favor... Nor does it end up in Ivy's

To my knowledge, The Riddler is one of the worst villains in Gotham. At least Calendar Man is able to successfully murder someone before being caught. The Riddler, on the other hand, tells non-challenging riddles and quizzes. Even Magpie was able to solve some of them after I told her (though it took a bit longer than it really should have). I would suspect Harley could solve them, however, she is still in the psychiatric ward. 

 

You may think my lack of kindness towards the lackluster villain is undeserved, but I can assure you, the  _ Daily-Riddle-in-the-paper _ Man - as I call him - is completely justified.

 

While most criminals that live in this dank hole of murder and deceit are tough or smart enough to handle whatever is thrown at them, The Riddler is just incapable. His crimes are planned quite averagely, which is one of the limited compliments I can give him, but since his whole motif is riddles and puzzles, it’s quite facile to determine who did the crime. 

 

Not to mention he is one of the most fragile men I’ve woefully have made contact with. (I wonder if his spine fully healed.)

 

I’ve decided to speak with Doodlebug instead of Scarecrow (for obvious reasons) to see public opinions on him.

 

“Riddler? Ya, I’ve heard of him,” he said.

 

“He’s a fucking moron, that’s what he is.” Victor Zsasz piped up from next to Doodlebug. I watched as he slowly dragged a plastic fork around the meal plate. The scars that encompass his skin wiggled like snakes.

 

“He keeps leaving all these cheaply written riddles with a proper one scattered here or there. It’s a shock that he is still breathing.”

 

Both Doodle and I were stunned.

 

“I’ve never heard you talk that much, big guy.” Doodlebug commented.

 

Victor just struggled and started eating his peas. I cleared my throat.

 

“Have you two ever associated with him? Perhaps had an arrangement?”

 

Both Doodlebug and Victor were silent, with only Victor’s chewing and the boisterous chatter that enveloped the cafeteria being the backdrop to our conversation.

 

“No,” Doodlebug finally answered, leaning back. “He is too annoyin’ to work with, but lemme tell you. He can be crafty. I’ve heard from tha others he gots henchwoman. Hotties at that. ‘Names’ are Query an’ Echo, if I remember correctly. An’ he’s worked with tha big shots.”

 

“Big shots?” I urged.

 

“Ya know. Like Penguin an’... The Joke-”

 

“Thank you for your time, inmates. You BOTH don’t warrant the title of gentleman for… Obvious reasons. Now, I must go encounter our man Riddles.”

 

“Wait wait wait- Ivy-!”

 

“Don’t touch me.” I snarled as Doodlebug placed a frantic hand on my shoulder.

 

He held up his hands defensively. “Look, you already got a rep for beatin’ the shit outta folks. I don’t want Magpie to come cryin’ late in the night for bein’ lonely.”

 

At first, I considered punching the bloody artist in his scrawny stomach but decided to just ignore his plea and walk off. I felt the piercing gaze of the cafeteria's occupations as I stormed towards the table that held of man of discussion. I could already hear his wild laughter as he entertained his posse of equally insane women.

 

“I got another one for you ladies if you wanna hear it?”

 

An explosion of giggles erupted from the tables, halting my progress. I stood only three feet away as a wild-eyed brunette with a hyena’s laugh leaned into Riddler’s face.

 

“Oh yes, Riddles! Yes yes YES!”

 

“Okay okay, darling!” He shouted, pushing the woman back harshly. His face twisted into an emotion of both disgust and devilish amusement. “Let’s see if I remember it all…”

 

The entire table went silent as Riddler rubbed his chin with his flaky skinned hand. He snapped his fingers before a wild grin stretched across his unshaven face.

 

“What’s round and soft like a ball, but they are not owned by all. Craved by the average male, but they always fail. Always someone’s desire, so they must sweetly conspire. What am I?”

 

The girls all silent. Some made ‘hmm’ noises while others just blindly stared off into space. One platinum blonde girl in handcuffs rested her head on the Riddler’s shoulder. She started tracing circles with her pointer finger on his chest, a grin spreading slowly across her face. 

“I dunno, Eddie~!” she cooed. “What is it?”

 

In a flash, Riddler wrapped his large hands around the blonde’s chest with a mad smirk on his face. She squealed in delight while the other girls whined for the ‘Riddles’ attention. I growled and shoved the original brunette aside. Slamming my hands down, I narrowed my eyes and glanced at the now surprised women.

 

“Ladies… Can you can me and my friend from some private time?” The Riddler murmured, releasing the girl from his grasp.

 

They all started to complain, but a fierce glare from the Riddler sent them scattering like a herd of frightened gazelles. I have to admit, I was impressed by the power he held over them, despite them being a lousy half-truth teller.

 

“Ivy, you have some nerve coming up to my spot and proclaiming yourself queen,” Riddler threatened with a snarl. “You’re making me look like a  _ joke _ .”

 

“I believe you’re doing a rather good job at that yourself. You don’t need me to make you seem ludicrous,  _ Eddie _ .”

 

Edward Nygma opened his mouth to spit out a retort, but swiftly closed it after he thought better. He uncomfortable shifted in his tight-fitting orange jumpsuit as he gazed at me with a confused look. We sat in silence for a spell while Riddler contemplated his next move like a master chess player considering where to move his next pawn.

 

“Okay, no beatings?” Nygma finally said with exhaustion slipping into his tone. “I mean, did you see what you did you ‘Crow’s face?”

 

“Five fractures and a missing tooth,” I replied as I ran my fingers through my sunset red hair. “I terrible shame, I know. Now the stacks of meat he calls prostitutes won’t fall for his charms before they’re inevitable demise.”

 

Nygma shifted awkwardly again. “Like I said, no beatings?”

 

“No beatings,” I reassured.

 

He let out a short sigh of relief, but stopped and glanced at me nervously. “So… What are you here for.”

 

I reached out and grabbed one of a styrofoam cups discarded by the female-posse and sniffed. It was some form of Kool-Aid… Or, at least an off-brand version. I smelled of obnoxiously strong fake strawberry and metallic water. Scrunching up my nose, I bravely took a sip. I nearly spat out the contents onto Nygma, but forcibly kept it down.

 

“You okay, Re-”

 

“ _ Don’t call me that _ .”

 

I suppose it came out sharper than I intended since Nygma jolted backward as if he just had been struck. I quickly placed the cup back on the metal table and wiped my lips with the back of my hand, trying to calm myself down,

 

I  _ did not  _ need another visit to the Tenth Layer of Hell.

 

“To answer your question,” I started. “I wish to just speak with you. Get in your head, so to say.”   
  


“You’re gonna put seeds in my brain?!” Nygma shouted, gripping his ears like a terrified child.

 

“No, you waste of the Green’s time!” I fired back. “I simply wish to  _ understand  _ you. How you, as a person, function and live in this society.”

 

“We live in a society, ya know? Hehe…”

 

Nygma stood up straighter as if to seem more professional. He leaned in closer and said.

 

“So, before we start, what do you think about me?”

 

I raised an eyebrow. “You wish to have an honest answer?”

 

His smile faltered a little. “...Yes?”

 

I grinned back and raised the cup like a king giving a toast. “I believe you’re one of the most pathetic folks in all of Gotham villainy. Petty crimes and property damage is all you seem to commit with Batman ending your reign as soon as it started, all because you left your ridiculous calling card: riddles!”

 

The black haired man leaned back and rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Gee… You really don’t like me.”

 

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I dislike  _ everyone _ ,” I explained. “But you… I dislike  _ you  _ because of your idiocy. You could be a better criminal, you realize if you just didn’t leave your metaphorical fingerprints all over the scene, you perverted charlatan.”

 

“I’m not a pervert! How dare you!” Nygma yelled bitterly, slapping a hand across his chest.

 

“Really? Tell that to the girl you fondled.” I spat before forcing another sip down.

 

“That was… A joke!” Nygma tried to convince. “Besides, they like it! So, it shouldn’t matter!”

 

“Sexual harassment isn’t a joke, Riddler. Though you men usually have the same sort of mindset, I’ve observed. Freeze is the only one with some dignity.”

 

He sighed and rubbed his temples angrily. Suddenly, a grin appeared upon his face and he slammed a fist down on the table.   

 

“I gotta good one for you!” He cheered, pointing a long finger in my direction.

 

“A riddle? Didn’t I just say-”

 

“I know ya did!” He interrupted me (rudely, I may add). “But this is a good one, I swear. Please? Then I’ll answer any questions you got. I swear on Batman’s cape!”

 

God, he looked like a man-child in that moment. Desperateness and pure pleading shone across his face like a billboard ad. I sighed, finished the hellish tasting liquid, a nodded. He gasped and clapped his hands together like a young child being told he could have one more cookie. He raised a finger as if he needed to silence me (like I was going to be told what to do, I simply remained quiet because it fit the situation) and started to mumble to himself. I didn’t care to interrupt his mad ramblings, just started to glance around the area. 

 

The girls from the original posse were inching closer and closer by the minute, eyes-widened and heads perked like little animals. The blonde haired girl, the one Riddler took advantage of, had her arms pressed firmly on her chest. Her silver eyes were narrowed like a cat’s, stalking me. Little did she know that I was the predator and she was the helpless prey.

 

“I remember it now!”

 

I whipped my head back around to stare at Riddler. His smile was even larger now (if that was possible and apparently it was) and he pointed another finger at me.

 

“Are ya ready, Ivy?”

 

I nodded.

 

He took a deep breath and spoke. “What is the beginning of eternity, the end of time and space, the beginning of every end and the end of every race?”

 

“A clock,” I answered right away.

 

Smile still firmly planted on his face, Nygma cocked his head. “Are you sure?”

 

I frowned. “Of course I’m sure. A clock always singles one’s birth and one’s demise. It also starts and races and we know when time started back we can use a clock to make our judgement. So, therefore, a clock.”

 

The man was silent for a few heartbeats, but then he burst out laughing. I heard the girls start laughing as well. I whipped my head to face them and while they tried to stop, they simply couldn’t. It was like a spell had been cast upon them. I glared back at Nygma and snarled. “What did you do.”

 

“It’s not what  _ I  _ did! It’s what  _ you  _ did!” He chortled.

 

“Me?!” I yelled.

 

Nygma nodded wildly as he started to calm down. “You say my riddles are dumb, but… But you didn’t even get the basic one right!”

 

“...I didn’t?”

“NO!” He shouted with humor slipping into his tone. He started up again, causing the girls to follow. 

 

I gripped the table's edges with shaky hands. “What... Is it?”

 

“An… AN E! HAHAHAHAHA!!!” 

 

Nygma finally had too much and nearly fell off his seat. “Ah man! I didn’t know that the great Poison Ivy could fail  _ soooooooooooooo _ badly! HA!”

 

Before he could fully fall off, I grabbed him by the collar and lifted him into the air. The posse of females gasped in shocked and began to whimper in fear. I could feel the cold, frightened stares of the people digging into my back like knives. But a primal rage blazed through my body. It made my chest tighten and my eyesight blurry. Nygma shrugged to break free, kicking and clawing with little effect on me. 

 

I could’ve ended him.

 

There and then I could’ve ended him. Make roots spring up from the earth as full adults and have him shredded to pieces. Burn the building to Hell and then find all those who ever wronged me… Then let their blood feed my babies.

 

But there were people here I  ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶l̶e̶r̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶e̶n̶j̶o̶y̶ ̶s̶p̶e̶n̶d̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶i̶m̶e̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶l̶o̶v̶e̶ know. They shouldn’t die painfully  ̶s̶l̶o̶w̶l̶y̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶b̶e̶t̶t̶e̶r̶.

 

I lowly the pitiful man to my level and whispered. “I’m Poison Ivy… I’ve never failed. I’ve only had setbacks… Something they’ll have to do for  _ you _ .”

 

I threw him against the war as hard as I could. I could  _ hear  _ the painful explosion that his back echoed through the cafeteria. 

 

Without waiting for the guards, I walked back to my cell where I am currently hid-

 

Apologize for the mistake. I’ve returned from the Layer, my dear journal. I’ve thought about it and I’ve learned a lot about Nygma. He isn’t as bad as I thought he was, though he does poke some nerves. I cannot wait for our next chat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for not updating. I had a lot of personal shit go down in my life and I honestly couldn't force myself to write. But here I am, ready for the next chapter! Send me who you want to see and I will do a chapter on them! Love you all :DDD!


End file.
